


beautiful disaster

by thunderylee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, Fluff, M/M, POV First Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-01
Updated: 2005-05-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 01:58:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12854295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Ron sorts out his feelings for Harry.





	beautiful disaster

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

Everybody thinks they know Harry Potter. Just because he’s famous doesn’t mean they _know_ him. Just because his screams wake up everyone in Gryffindor Tower whenever he has a nightmare doesn’t mean they _know_ how they affect him. Just because they see how powerful he is and how he presents himself doesn’t mean they know what’s going on inside his head.

_I_ know. I’m his best mate, after all.

> _He drowns in his dreams_  
>  An exquisite extreme, I know  
>  He’s as damned as he seems  
>  And more heaven than a heart could hold  
>  And if I tried to save him  
>  My whole world would cave in  
>  It just ain’t right  
>  Lord it just ain’t right

Even Hermione doesn’t know the miserable extent to which Harry’s life has become. She has knowledge, yes, but she doesn’t _know_. She’s not there every night to witness the tossing and turning and whimpering that accompanies the horrific nightmares. She doesn’t notice the tears behind his eyes when he forces a smile and claims that he’s fine. She doesn’t feel the pain that he feels because she doesn’t _know_.

_I_ see it. _I_ feel it. Because I’m his best mate.

> _Oh and I don’t know_  
>  I don’t know what he’s after  
>  But he’s so beautiful  
>  He’s such a beautiful disaster  
>  And if I could hold on  
>  Through the tears and the laughter  
>  Lord would it be beautiful  
>  Or just a beautiful disaster

I’m the one he runs to. I’m the one he trusts. I’m the one who holds him when he cries. He pours his heart out to me and confesses his fears. He’s scared he will lose me. He’s scared I will die. I don’t say anything; I don’t need to.

I just listen. That’s what best mates do.

> _He’s magic and myth_  
>  He’s strong as what I believe  
>  My tragedy with  
>  More damage than a soul should see  
>  But do I try to change him  
>  So hard not to blame him  
>  Hold me tight  
>  Baby hold me tight

When I look at Harry, I see my future. Our future. Maybe we will play professional Quidditch. Maybe we’ll join the Auror Academy. We might even settle for stuffy desk jobs at the Ministry. We’ll grow old together. We’ll die content old men warm in our beds, satisfied with the lives we’ve led.

Wherever life may lead us, I’ll be right there next to him. No evil Dark Lord is going to stand in the way of our happiness. I’ll kill him myself, if I have to.

Best mates protect each other.

> _Oh and I don’t know_  
>  I don’t know what he’s after  
>  But he’s so beautiful  
>  Such a beautiful disaster  
>  And if I could hold on  
>  Through the tears and the laughter  
>  Would it be beautiful  
>  Or just a beautiful disaster

Harry has grown up. We both have, but his transformation is more noticeable. His face has taken on definition; his body ruggedness. No longer is he the little boy who sat across from me on our first train-ride to Hogwarts. He is now a man. His emerald eyes shine bright with wisdom beyond his years. His shaggy black hair is still unruly, but we’ve all gotten used to it. His clothes fit him very well now. He has grown into quite an attractive man.

Best mates compliment each other.

> _I’m longing for love and the logical_  
>  But he’s only happy hysterical  
>  I’m searchin’ for some kind of miracle  
>  Waited so long,  
>  I’ve waited so long

Harry doesn’t have a girlfriend because he doesn’t want one. He’s got too much going on right now, and he doesn’t want to drag anyone else down. He doesn’t need to date anyway, I tell him. Nobody understands him like I do. Nobody ever will.

He looks at me and nods. I read his eyes and nod back.

Best mates communicate without speaking.

> _He’s soft to the touch_  
>  But frayed at the end he breaks  
>  He’s never enough  
>  And still he’s more than I can take

The next thing I know, his lips are on mine. Intensely, passionately, our mouths crash together and our tongues seek each other out. We’re kissing and it’s insane and odd and oh-so good and I don’t want it to stop. I feel his hands on my face, in my hair, kneading my back, pulling me closer.

It ends and I whimper. He flings his glasses aside, throws me down on the bed, and kisses me again.

Best mates can read minds.

> _Oh and I don’t know_  
>  I don’t know what he’s after  
>  But he’s so beautiful  
>  He’s such a beautiful disaster  
>  And if I could hold on  
>  Through the tears and the laughter  
>  Would it be beautiful  
>  Or just a beautiful disaster

We hold onto each other tight and gasp for air after making love for the first time. We’re both sweaty and sticky and flushed. Green eyes meet mine and he whispers, “I love you, Ron.”

I love him too.

So much for being best mates.

> _He’s beautiful  
>  Lord, he’s so beautiful  
>  He’s beautiful_


End file.
